


empty your sadness like you're dumping your purse on my bedroom floor

by gingerbread man (xphantomhive)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Angst, F/M, Infidelity, M/M, Mentioned (possible) Alcoholism, Mentioned suicide, Non-Explicit Sex, Partner Betrayal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-24
Updated: 2016-01-24
Packaged: 2018-05-16 01:24:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5807893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xphantomhive/pseuds/gingerbread%20man
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She has lipstick the color of John's eyes, and she tears your life apart piece by piece.</p>
            </blockquote>





	empty your sadness like you're dumping your purse on my bedroom floor

_stuck in the jet wash_

_bad trip i couldn't get off_

_and maybe i bit off more than i could chew_

_and overhead of the aqua blue_

 

**;**

 

You meet them both in kindergarten, but you meet her first.

She’s four inches taller than you and she has fake spiderwebs in her hair, but you sit next to her on the bus anyway. “I’m Dave,” you tell her, and the corner of her mouth quirks up into a little smile. She tells you her name is Vriska and sticks her hand out for you to shake, and you do. Then you ask her why she has spiderwebs in her hair. Her smile grows, and you notice that she has fake fangs in her mouth, a pair of those glow-in-the-dark ones that they give out for free on Halloween night. They don’t fit in her mouth right.

“I love spiders,” she replies. “They’re cool, don’tcha think?”

You don’t really think spiders are cool. You found one under your bed last week, and it crawled up your arm so you killed it with a shoe. You decide that you probably shouldn’t tell her that, since it might hurt her feelings, so instead you say, “Yeah, they’re chill.”

The two of you become inseparable after that. It’s never just Dave or just Vriska, it’s always Vriska and Dave. You don’t have any friends other than her and she doesn’t have any friends other than you, but then you meet him. He asks you to borrow a blue crayon and you let him, but he doesn’t give it back after two days and you decide that you’re going to get it back from him yourself. Vriska asks if you need her for backup, and you tell her you can do this alone.

He’s four inches shorter than you and he’s drawing a picture of a ghost, and you snatch the crayon from his hand and snap it in half. He looks up at you and frowns. His eyes are the same color as the crayon bits in your hand, and he has glasses that are too big for his face and teeth that are too big for his mouth. “Whaddya do that for?” He demands, arms crossed over his chest.

“Y’stole my crayon,” you respond, which isn’t exactly the best argument because you just broke the exact crayon he’d quote on quote “stolen” from you. “Made me angry.”

He pulls himself up from his spot on the ground and tries to look intimidating, but he’s still much shorter and scrawnier than you are. “You’re mean!”

“Yeah,” you nod. “I am.”

His pout deepens, and you tilt your head like a confused bird. “I’m Dave,” you offer.

He doesn’t say anything for a few minutes, only stares at you with a scowl implanted on his face and his arms crossed over his chest. “I’m John.”

You become John and Dave and Vriska.

+

John starts dating Vriska in sixth grade, and it changes from John and Dave and Vriska to John and Vriska with Dave as the third wheel. The three of you used to have sleepovers on Saturdays, but they start going on dates on Saturdays. The three of you used to hang out in the library after school, but they start walking home together after school. The three of you used to go to the mall together, but they start going alone so they can hold hands and kiss by the fountain. They become John and Vriska and you become just Dave.

Then you meet her. She’s three inches taller than you and she kind of looks like John, but her black hair is long and she has green eyes like grass in the summer or radioactive acid. “I’m Jade Harley,” she tells you excitedly over the top of the book in her hands about space, and you nod in return and put your hand out for her to shake.

“Dave,” you shoot back, pushing your shades up with your free hand. “We have art class together, don’t we? Or am I wrong here. Maybe it was English. Fuck.”

She laughs, and you kind of like how it sounds. “We have art _and_ English together, silly.”

Right. She’s the girl who paints stars and galaxies and planets, who reads about them when you’re supposed to be learning how to properly cite an essay. You ask her if she’d like to see a movie sometime, tacking on quickly that it isn’t a date. She raises an eyebrow and then shakes her head at you and says, “You are so totally asking me on a date right now.”

You nod, slowly. Yeah, you might be asking her on a date.

+

By high school, they’re still John and Vriska, but now you aren’t just Dave. You’re Jade and Dave, and you go on ice cream dates and have sleepovers on Saturdays and she holds your hand under the table at lunch and nudges you with her shoulder when you fall asleep during science class. You still hang out with Vriska occasionally, but you aren’t Dave and Vriska anymore;

until you are.

She knocks on your door at ten pm one Saturday night. Jade had to cancel your sleepover because she’d come down with the flu, and when you offered to bring her chicken noodle soup and stay with her until she fell asleep or whatever it is good boyfriends do she’d told you she was fine on her own and that you should just stay home. You were going to surprise her, but you decided against it. Jade hates surprises.

You open your door and Vriska is on the other side. She has on lipstick the color of John’s eyes, and her hair is pulled into a high ponytail on the top of her head. You step aside to let her in, and she walks to your couch without a word. You put _National Treasure_ on and sit with her.

“Dave, am I ugly?” She asks you after a few minutes, and you turn your head to look at her. Her eyes are focused on the screen, but there are tears glistening in her eyes. Yours widen behind your shades. “It’s just, because. John said I was. We had a fight.”

You open your mouth to tell her that she isn’t, that he was just angry and throwing around words, but before you can she’s on your lap and her thighs are straddling yours and her lips are on your neck and you want to push her away but you’re frozen. Her mouth moves up and then it’s on yours, and you still don’t shove her away because maybe you want this. “Why didn’t you ever make a move?” She asks against your lips. “You could’ve. I wouldn’t have said no, Dave.”

And then she’s standing, popping the button on her jeans and wiggling out of them. She takes her underwear off too, and then your best friend Vriska Serket is standing in the middle of your living room completely naked from the waist down. “Do you want to have sex with me?”

You think you might, and it’s wrong. You have a girlfriend, but you don’t think you love her. You don’t think you love Vriska, either. You know who you love, and you know he doesn’t love you back because he hasn’t even talked to you in _years_ now, so you nod at her. She undresses you from the waist down too, and then she’s sinking down onto you and there are tears in her eyes.

You kiss them away, and then her mouth is on yours again. She bounces up and down a few times, testing the waters, and when you moan she swallows it down. “I don’t love you,” she says to you, and she’s still crying, but you don’t think it’s because she’s in pain this time. “I don’t love you and I don’t love John and I don’t love _anyone_ , don’t you get it? I don’t fucking _care_ , Dave.”

“I get it,” you tell her, and she moans into your mouth. “I don’t care either.”

“You fucking love him,” she whispers against your lips, still bouncing on your lap. Her toes curl, and they’re the color of John’s eyes. “You wish you were fucking him, don’t you? You don’t want it to be me. You wish it was him that came to your door, you wish it was him you were inside. You don’t even fucking love Jade. You don’t want it to be Jade. You’re disgusting.”

She grinds, and you nod. “I know.”

She pulls away once she finishes but before you can, and you’ve been best friends since kindergarten so she gives you a handjob to help instead of leaving you on your own. “You fucking disgust me,” she says while she’s doing it, wrist twisting at a weird angle. “You’re terrible. You’re a terrible fucking person.”

“I know,” you say again, and when you finish it splatters on her shirt. “I know I am.”

+

Vriska starts coming over every Saturday, and she still tells you about how disgusting you are when you have sex with her and she still tells you that she knows you love John but she always leaves an hour before Jade comes over. One night Jade is early, and Vriska has to sneak out of the window in your laundry room before either of you are finished, and you forget to wipe the lipstick stains off of your neck that are the color of John’s eyes.

And Jade sees them instantly. Of course she does. “You’re...cheating on me?” She asks quietly, and she looks so broken, and you want to hug her and kiss her problems away. Only this time, the problem is you, and you don’t think she wants you kissing it away. “You’re cheating on me! You’re cheating on me with someone who wears blue lipstick, who is it, who the fuck is it-”

She stops talking, and you see realization bloom. She looks horrified. Disgusted. Appalled. You really are a terrible person. “Vriska,” she says, more to herself then you. “Vriska Serket. I can’t...I can’t even fucking _believe_ you, Dave! I can’t fucking-don’t even _talk_ to me. Don’t even _look_ at me, our relationship is fucking history. You goddamn, you fucking-asshole!”

She slams the door, and you sink to the ground and start crying.

+

After that, Vriska stops coming over, and you think that’s because she got exactly what she wanted. She wanted Jade to break up with you, because Jade was too good for you, because you didn’t actually love her. But you know Vriska is still with John, so you give her a taste of her own medicine by telling the school gossip that Vriska cheated on John with you.

Then, on the first day of eleventh grade, you’re being slammed against a locker and there’s a fist slamming into your face. It’s John. He’s still four inches shorter than you and his eyes are the color of Vriska’s lipstick that used to be on your neck every Saturday, and he doesn’t punch you again after the first time but he starts crying. “I thought we were friends,” he says softly, and you don’t know if he’s talking about you or Vriska or both of you. “I thought you were both my friends.”

“We are,” you try, but he shakes his head at you and stands. His legs are shaking.

“If you were, you wouldn’t have done this to me.”

And then, he’s gone.

+

You become just Dave and just John and just Vriska, but midway through eleventh grade it becomes John and Dirk. He starts dating your older brother, who’s a grade above both of you, and when you see them in the hallway it makes you sick. They hold hands and they kiss and most of all, they ignore you. He comes over to your house on weekends, but if you’re in the living room watching TV he doesn’t even say “hello” to you.

They become John and Dirk, and you’re still just Dave, because you haven’t been John and Dave in a long time, but then he’s knocking on your bedroom door in the middle of the night and you let him in because you miss him. Because you love him. He’s wearing one of your brother’s shirts and his boxers, and you can’t pretend that it isn’t John and Dirk anymore.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” he tells you shakily, and there are tears stuck to his eyelashes and you see them when a car passes and its headlights brighten your dark room. He’s slipping his boxers off, taking the shirt off carefully, and then he’s kicking them aside. “I don’t know what I’m doing,” he says again, and you think it’s his mantra. He slips your boxers off and you let him, and you shouldn’t, because he’s dating your brother. “I don’t know _what I’m doing_ ,” and he sinks down on you, loops his arms around your neck and presses his forehead to your bare shoulder.

“Did you just have sex with my brother?” You ask him, because you don’t know much about sex between two men but you know it’s supposed to hurt and John doesn’t seem like he’s in much physical pain. He bounces on your lap and grinds down, and then he cries out and bites your shoulder. You dig your fingers into his hips and meet him halfway through his next grind.

“I’m sorry,” he says, but you don’t know if he’s saying it to you or Dirk. You don’t get to ask because his mouth is on yours, and you swallow his moans greedily, because he isn’t yours and you used to think you thought you deserved him but you aren’t so sure if you do anymore. He leans close and you smell vodka on his breath, and you hope he isn’t drunk.

He finishes but he doesn’t pull back before you can like Vriska had, and you finish inside of him but he doesn’t seem to care. He pulls on your boxers and Dirk’s shirt, and then he’s gone from your room as fast as the wind.

+

She’s four inches taller than you and she has fake spiderwebs in her hair, and when you see her at school on Monday she spits in your face and calls you disgusting. She’s three inches taller than you and she has green eyes like radioactive acid, and she smudges your painting in art class on Tuesday and tells you that she hates you. He’s four inches shorter than you and he has a _Ghostbusters_ shirt on, and when he sees you at school on Wednesday he kisses you on the mouth between English class and art class and tells you that he’s disgusting.

On Thursday, you hit the pavement from the top of your apartment building. On Friday, he downs a bottle of pills. 

**Author's Note:**

> i don't know what to say other than this plot got really out of hand. i had no idea where the fuck i was going with it and this is what happened.
> 
> also this is the first time i wrote more detailed sex? more detailed because it wasn't explicit sex.
> 
> dedicated to user annibellee, who is absolutely wonderful!


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